A/N: This was my creative writing for school today. I like the premise, but I think it could have been written a lot better. Tell me what you think! Please?
He was surrounded by darkness. It felt like he was sinking, and there was no bottom. Blackness swirled around him, and he began to suffocate. Memory disappeared with the ability to breathe. The faint light from above – or below, he couldn't tell – was fading quickly as his brain slowed. Once the burning lack of oxygen became too much, it shut down completely. Then he dreamed.
He was running. He seemed to be in some kind of forest or wood. The trees looked tall and threatening. The huge canopy far above him blocked any sun there may have been, though it was nearly set. The tall shadows added to the sense of danger.
What am I doing? he wondered. Who's chasing me?
Then he realized, nothing was chasing him. He was chasing something. Something important that threatened to slip away.
He picked up speed. Ahead, he may have seen a flash of something. Instinctively, he knew that it was what he needed. He couldn't remember what it was.
There it was again. He seemed to be gaining on it.
Suddenly, he almost lost sight of it altogether. Desperately, he pushed himself harder. Whatever he was chasing, he knew he had to catch it. He knew he couldn't lose.
There. Ahead and to the left. He moved so that he was diagonal with it, and then jumped, tackling it. It was a person. He flipped them over. Shock coursed through him.
He had been chasing himself.
A mixture of panic, fear and dread filled him, and he turned around and ran back where he had come from, trying to escape.
Back. Back to the water. Away from here. Away from that…
Body. It was a body. And it was me.
The water didn't hurt anymore. But the terror had followed him. It smiled, as if to say, you can't escape me. I am everywhere.
He hated it. Grinning at him. Chilling him to the bone. Reaching out to take him back to that place.
But then, at the last second, he was pulled away. Back towards the surface. It was confusion from there.
He hadn't realized how suppressed everything was down there. Slow movements. Almost no sounds. Delayed reactions. Now, he was bombarded with sensations.
The water splashed as they broke the surface. Sirens. Worried voices. A medical chopper. Then, the more subtle elements. The wind whistling. Rustling the leaves. The smell of rain. The cold of the water. The sand shifting as he was dragged onto it.
Compressions. Someone was counting. Pressure on his chest. Air was pushed into his lungs. He gasped.
His eyes opened, and he coughed as oxygen flooded his lungs. His throat hurt. His chest hurt. He was cold. There were worried eyes above him, beyond them a gray sky ready to open up. Others stood in the background, waiting. He was still coughing. Finally, he breathed.
The anxious eyes filled with relief. He lost track of what happened after that.
Not today, Fear. Today, you lose.
A/N: I pictured it as Tim being the subject (imagine that, me writing a Tim-centric story) and Tony saving him. The idea was that maybe Tim had gone to follow a lead or talk to a suspect, and was overpowered or something and thrown in a body of water while he was unable to swim, like tied to a cinderblock. Not the Potomac; I pictured it as a deep pond in a rural area, with trees nearby, in the late fall or early winter. So, what did you think? I'm not psychic, so you'll have to use the old fashioned way and review. Thanks!